The Day That Never Comes
by xRayneBloodx
Summary: 'After a freak-potions accident, Harry is forcibly reformed to the age of one-and-a-half-years. If taken in correct doses, he will age back to sixteen with a potion made by Snape – but what's this? Dumbledore wants Severus and Draco to take care of him! This /can't/ end well.' DM/HP. Eventual Slash.
1. Prelude

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS MENTIONED HERE. ALL RIGHTS BELONG TO J.K ROWLING.  
Summary: **'After a freak-potions accident, Harry is forcibly reformed to the age of one-and-a-half-years. If taken in correct doses, he will age back to sixteen with a potion made by Snape – but what's this? Dumbledore wants Severus and Draco to take care of him?! This can't end well.'  
**Warnings:** Slash/Preslash. Minor Chan/Shotacon. Language. AU/AR – Noncanon VERY OOC. Slightly-Less-Evil-Voldie. Manipulative-But-Not-Evil-Dumbles. Good![?]Death-Eaters. CRACK?  
**Pairing/s:** Draco/Harry.

**A/N:**  
Most unoriginal plot ever, but -**shrugs**- My plans say it will be over 20 chapters long, at the moment. Will most likely update weekly, or every two weeks. Hopefully everyone enjoys! Pairings will be added as we go along.

* * *

**PROLOGUE:**

"We're screwed," Draco announced glumly, staring miserably at the equally unhappy baby propped up directly across from him.

The Headmaster smiled knowingly, however; lacing his hands together and peering at them over the rims of his half-moon spectacles. "Now, now, my boy. This is an excellent learning experience – you might even bond! Think of what this could do for both of your lives. Surely, you tire of your fighting, if only a little bit? I assure you, only good can come from this!"

The blonde Slytherin, currently in his Sixth Year, sneered at Dumbledore and crossed his arms. "_How_, in the name of Merlin, will changing his nappy help us _bond_? I assure _you_, Headmaster, that the only good that could come from this would be Potter being sent to his Weasel's and _not ruining my summer_."

Albus sighed, leaning back in his chair and appraising the two seething Slytherins. The sparkle in his eye wasn't quite gone, but it had dimmed considerably, setting them both on edge – more than usual, anyway. "I have considered that, of course, but I thought if something were to go wrong he would be in capable hands, Severus."

Said man merely scowled, fighting the urge to cross his arms childishly and glower at the old coot until all of his problems went away. He turned his glare on the baby-toddler-thing instead, lips thinning in annoyance when the _thing_ simply blinked his large green eyes at him uncomprehendingly, gnawing wetly on his tiny fist. "I'm _sure_ Mrs Weasley would be a better candidate," he said darkly, silently cursing Longbottom and his non-existent Potion-skills. "It would be too dangerous for me to lug the boy around—"

"WHERE IS HE?! WHERE'S HARRY?!"

Draco groaned, unknowingly mimicked by Severus in his head. He sunk down in his chair, glaring at Harry accusingly. "See what you've done now, Potter?! I'll never hear the end of it from _them_!"

Harry gurgled curiously, bare feet held loosely in their respective hands as he rocked back and forth on his padded rear.

It was hard to be mad at such a cute, pudgy face, Draco thought, but that made him all the more irritated and he reinforced his waning glower as the Headmaster's door was flung open and two thirds of the Golden Trio tumbled through.

Severus threw them bone-chilling glares, but otherwise remained impassive and moved aside as to not be in such close-quarters to them. Draco would have done the same, but didn't dare let them have even the slightest control over him. He sneered, sitting straighter and crossing his leg regally.

"Oh – my – god," Hermione spluttered, eyes wide and practically bulging from her skull as they zeroed in on the inquisitive baby atop Dumbledore's desk.

Ron fainted.

Harry shuffled on his bum, shoving a fist in his mouth and making slobbery cooing sounds at the unconscious redhead. He lost interest after a moment, turning his eyes on the stunned girl. He reached out his spit-covered hand, smiling toothily – toothlessly, really – and making grabbing motions.

Hermione stepped mechanically over the form of her boyfriend, pulling Harry somewhat awkwardly into her arms. She looked young and uncertain, gently rocking her arms.

"See?" Draco hissed, pushing away the bitterness that was roused at the sight – Potter had taken to her so well, while he had grumbled and fussed when Draco – admittedly, very awkwardly and probably not in the right way – carried him from the classroom. He _still_ didn't stand a chance. "Just leave him with Granger and the Weasels. He'll be fine."

The girl's head snapped up, suspicion and fear morphing her features. "Headmaster! Surely, he _should_ come with us?! We're his friends!"

Albus stroked his beard thoughtfully, extravagant robes flashing like a Muggle carnival. "My dear, the Potion Harry ingested is very dangerous on a good day and seeing as it was made _accidently_, who knows what effects it could have on him? Other than what has already occurred, I might add. Having Severus watch him seemed like the best option and since Narcissa is knowledgeable in such tonics, she would be nearby if Draco contributed to his care as well."

"You _c-can't_ be serious!" Hermione demanded, after a moment of silent choking. "Sirius was _just_ released from the Ministry! If anything, Harry deserves to be with his family and friends!"

The Headmaster sighed mournfully, "I'm afraid my decision has already been made. Harry will stay in Malfoy Manor for the summer."

**TO BE CONTINUED...**

**NEXT CHAPTER: 'Congratulations, It's A Boy!'**

**Updated: 2014/05/31**


	2. CONGRATULATIONS! IT'S A BOY!

**A/N:  
****Short and slow and not exactly what I had in mind, but the next chapter should be more interesting. If you'd like to see something specific happen, PM me or leave it in a review!**

* * *

**CHAPTER 1: CONGRATULATIONS! IT'S A BOY!**

It was raining, ironically, the morning Draco was to return home.

He got up at his normal time, half-heartedly making the bed before cleaning up in the en-suite bathroom and dressing in black trousers, a soft grey jumper and his normal school robes. "Good morning," he said grumpily, shuffling into Snape's small lounge.

He had been staying there with Potter for the last few days of the school term, evading prying eyes and keeping an eye on the child's health. Everything had been fine so far though, not including when he had suddenly stopped breathing for two minutes the night after his…_'transformation'_. Poppy had nearly had her own little melt-down, but she had managed to get his vitals even again rather quickly, much to everyone's relief.

Snape gave him an absolutely filthy look, already showered and dressed with his luggage at the door. "Get the brat up and meet me in Dumbledore's office. The password is the same."

Draco scowled but nodded stiffly and turned on his heel, stalking back down the small dim hall he had emerged from. Four doors were lined up evenly, although he had no idea what hid behind the last and he had no interest in finding out after hearing the strange noises that snuck under the frame in the night. Twisting the handle to the door directly across from his, the sturdy wood swung open without as much as a squeak.

"Rah, rah, raaahhhh!"

Cringing slightly at the happy gurgling, Draco quickly shut the door behind him and crossed the medium-sized room. He thought it might have been a storage area before, considering the empty boxes and jars pushed to the one side, but it was currently housing a Transfigured crib and baby-accessories supplied by the Headmaster. It wasn't a lot or terribly expensive things, just a small selection of clothes, toys, a small basin for rinsing him off in and a 'changing-station'.

"Hullo, Potter," he sighed at the eager expression on the child's face, watching with mild amusement as his arch-nemesis-turned-toddler struggled onto his feet, clutching the crib-bars with small chubby fingers.

"Rah, rah, rah!" Baby-Harry grinned, bouncing excitedly – and unsteadily – as he was approached. "Up!"

"Yes, yes," Draco rolled his eyes, leaning over the edge and gripping the child firmly under the arms, of which were immediately thrown around his neck in a choke-hold. "Bath time," he mumbled to himself, fishing his wand from his pocket and filling the basin with warm water. He cast a heating charm to keep the water a pleasant temperature and set the child on the changing table, awkwardly unbuttoning his pale blue baby-grow and disposing of the – thankfully – visibly-unused nappy.

He had gotten used to changing and dressing the toddler over the few days cooped up in Snape's quarters – even if he'd rather denounce his Slytherin title and join the Hufflepuffs than admit it. Sure, he was still mildly disgusted and couldn't wait until Harry was old enough to do it all himself, but Harry was a notably happy baby and easy to please, which in turn meant it only took a few bubbles to keep the child sedated long enough to rinse him off. He slept through the night rather well too, which his impromptu care-givers prized. He was only ever woken to change a dirty nappy and even then Harry was asleep within minutes of being tended to.

Still, there was something very _wrong_ about having to wipe Harry Potter's arse.

"All done," he said distractedly, patting the toddler dry and strapping a fresh nappy on. A fresh set of clothes appeared on the changing table then: white baby-grow, blue jumper, cotton trousers and little baby boots. It was going on summer, but he didn't doubt the child would need the layers.

"Rah, rah, rah," Harry gurgled, kicking his feet as Draco fastened the boots on. He wiggled as he was pulled to rest against the blonde's side, but stilled when he was unconsciously jiggled and held closer.

Draco smiled briefly, but the dread building up as the time to leave crept nearer froze the expression. It was time to face his parents.

* * *

"—this is ridiculous! Keeping my son here, like a prisoner when he has done nothing wrong!" Lucius insisted coolly, his voice muffled but perfectly clear even outside the office. Draco grimaced, murmuring this week's password – 'Jolly Jammers' – and slipping through when the entrance was revealed.

"Mr Malfoy, while I agree it isn't fair—"

Snape gave a sneer, setting down his tea-cup. "Oh, give it up, Albus. Draco has arrived, anyhow. They can see for themselves."

His parents immediately turned to face him, his previously quiet mother rising from her seat before the Headmaster's desk and stepping close to his father to see over his shoulder.

He inwardly sighed – Merlin, he was doing that a lot lately – and shifted Harry into a more comfortable position, idly wondering if the drool seeping into his robes was visible to everyone. Harry had quieted on their walk to the office, resting against his shoulder and dozing lightly, if the soft snores were anything to go by.

"Good morning," he said finally, when it seemed the silence was to drag on.

His father seemed to regain control of himself, mouth snapping shut and eyes flushing with cold anger. His hand tightened dangerously on the head of his snake-cane, knuckles whitening and long fingers trembling slightly with supressed emotion. His mother was calmer, face set in icy resolve, although she was visibly unaffected and lay a hand on her husband arm, manicured nails squeezing the robed flesh lightly.

His father opened his mouth, most likely to shriek bloody murder and vehemently insist he wanted nothing to do with Harry-Bloody-Potter, when it suddenly snapped shut, his expression evening out into something unreadable.

Narcissa stepped up, idly brushing back a lock of hair and setting a cool stare on the Headmaster and the professor. "Mr Dumbledore, Severus; we do _not_ appreciate the lies. Whatever happened could have been explained more clearly. Mr Potter has been exposed to a de-aging potion, is that it?"

"Yes," Snape replied. "It will take some time to bring him back and the Headmaster wants Draco and myself to care for him until then."

"At the Manor." It wasn't a question.

Dumbledore nodded, watching Lucius carefully. "This is a delicate situation and combined with your wife's own skills, I believe it will be much more likely to go without a hitch. You may, of course, refuse, but then I must insist young Draco stay at Hogwarts for the summer. He was involved and shall have to face up to the consequences."

His parents were quiet; his father seemingly calmer than before as he coolly observed his son and the toddler dozing on his shoulder. His mother sat down once more, crossing her leg elegantly and folding her hands in her lap.

"Alright," Lucius said finally, voice unreadable. "We shall…'accommodate' Mr Potter in his time of vulnerability."

"Thank you," Albus smiled. "The school will, of course, pay for any damages or equipment required."

"Of course it will," the blonde practically purred, smirking briefly.

Draco didn't know whether to be relieved or scared. His father was up to something and he _really_ didn't want to be a part of it.

**TO BE CONTINUED...**


	3. Malfoy Manor

**Warnings for this chapter: Masturbation.**

* * *

**CHAPTER 2: MALFOY MANOR**

The trip to the Manor was quick and silent as they used the Floo, although it only brought them to a small hut on the edge of the property for safety reasons – he personally thought his father was just paranoid – and they had to walk all the way to the front door.

Sure, it was summer, but let's be realistic. The weather was miserable.

He glared at the sky, tugging on his hood as rain started falling from the sky in soft sheets. Potter wiggled in his grasp, mumbling against his chest and blinking sleepily; tiny mouth stretching wide in a yawn. He frowned, tugging his cloak more securely around them both and casting a subtle heating charm, knowing the wards around the property would keep from alerting the Ministry. His cloak was spun with magic wool, designed to protect him from harsher weather and not a drop of water had touched either of them, so he trusted it to hold until they made it to the main building.

"Is Potter well?" his mother asked suddenly, interrupting his weather-grumping.

"He's fine," Draco replied, shoes crunching over gravel and twigs. He squinted at the house thoughtfully, contemplating the layout. "Will he be staying in my quarters?"

His mother was silent for a moment before nodding, styled curls bouncing with the movement. "I will have Mitzy and Rolo move the necessary equipment."

"Thank you," he muttered, trying not to squirm when he noticed his father studying him – subtly, of course. The only reason he could even tell was because he had spent his whole childhood and well into his teenage years making sure his father was looking at him.

There was something not quite right…

The front doors swung open, two elves he didn't recognise waiting for them nervously. They bowed low, noses nearly touching the marble tiles and he resisted a sneer of disgust, striding past without a second glance. Lulu, his personal elf, popped up beside him just as he was climbing the stairs.

"Have my things brought in from the cabin," he ordered before she could even address him, narrowing his eyes when she lingered, staring wide-eyed at the child in his arms. "_Now_."

"Yes, Masters Draco!" she squeaked, disappearing in a flash.

Draco sighed tiredly, trudging towards his little cluster of rooms; not quite the quarters a prince might have, but definitely more splendid than Zabini or Nott had, he was sure. Torches lit themselves as he passed, flaming much like a phoenix would, he thought.

"Oh," a soft, bell-like voice interrupted his thoughts, "how curious. Surely you are too young to be breeding?"

Draco's cheeks flushed without his consent, a scowl tugging at his mouth and eyes narrowing into a fierce glare as the faerie left his portrait, hopping frames to keep up and annoying the other paintings. "Go back to your frame, you—!"

"Fer! Fer! _Feeerrrrrr_!" Potter squealed, squirming and waving frantically, accidently hitting Draco in the neck twice.

The fey laughed, something akin to the soft vibrations before glass shattered. He stopped at the last frame, pressing his hand to the surface like you would do on a window. "Let me out just once, little Master. I could entertain that gorgeous baby of yours!"

Draco shuddered, hardly thinking before he Petrified the mass of painted curvatures and hurried inside his private lounge, locking the door and making sure the portraits weren't accessible from the outside. He had always hated the exotically beautiful faerie, but the predatory glint in its silver-spun eyes set him on edge like nothing before.

"Masters Draco," Lulu said timidly, wringing her hands and bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet. "Must Lulu prepare for Wizarding child?"

"No," he said shortly, resisting the urge to double-check the locks on the door and settling Potter on his four-poster bed, making sure he couldn't fall before turning to his trunk. "Mother is making preparations," he continued distractedly, frowning briefly at the toddler as he wormed all over his neat duvet. "Find out what time dinner will be so I can have the brat fed beforehand…and bring me any books on child-rearing from the first-floor Library."

Lulu nodded, wide-eyed, and disappeared. He started unpacking his clothes, tossing the dirty ones into the chute beside his closet and setting aside the clean ones to be put away.

"Rah…rahhh! Rah! Rah!"

Rolling his eyes, smiling wanly, he glanced towards the bed and watched out of the corner of his eye as Potter bounced happily, wiggling on his padded rear and waving his tiny clenched fists in what he assumed was some sort of baby-dance. Drool was bubbling at the corner of his mouth and he paused, face scrunching in concentration as he tried in vain to wipe it away.

"Ew," Draco muttered, fishing a handkerchief from his pocket and striding over to wipe the spit away. Potter grabbed fruitlessly at the ends of the fabric, gurgling excitedly as if it were some game. His grimace evened out, lips quirking upwards into a smirk as he imagined what would happen if Potter managed to remember everything that would happen.

He blinked.

…_would_ Potter remember? _He had never thought to ask!_ Cursing his stupidity, he let the toddler take the handkerchief and returned to unpacking his things, promising himself he'd find out later.

* * *

Lucius stared listlessly into the fireplace, manicured nails tapping a rhythm into the dark-wood desktop as he schemed.

It was risky, definitely, and he wasn't so sure his plan would work anymore. In the comfort of his private study and two glasses of Firewhisky later he could admit he wasn't so sure he had made the right choice after all, letting his Lord's nemesis into his haven, where he could show up at any time. Not to mention the Order and that damned Dumbledore! His wards would have alerted him to anything especially dangerous on the boy, but he didn't put it past the old coot to sneak a spell or two in somewhere. He couldn't do much if it was actually physically on the brat without making it look suspicious, but he would replace everything Albus had given them and make sure Severus didn't feed him anything strange. He didn't like to think of the man as a traitor, but their Lord was suspicious of someone in the Inner Circle and it certainly wasn't _him_, so the only likely option was Snape.

He narrowed his eyes.

And then there was the possibility that the 'potions incident' wasn't an accident at all. All was fair in war and it certainly could have been a good plan although it seemed a little too risky – even for Gryffindors – to send in their salvation and a possible double-agent at the same time. Talk about putting too many eggs in one basket.

Lucius sighed, noting the time. He would keep an eye on Severus for now.

* * *

"All of it?" Draco asked, gaping at his father. "But _why_? He won't stay a child for long anyway, it would just be a waste of Galleons."

Lucius sniffed, taking a pretentious sip of wine. "Watch your tone, Draco – I am _not_ one of your friends."

Narcissa rolled her eyes discreetly, briefly meeting Severus' eyes across the table. She acknowledged him coolly, folding her serviette and putting it beside her empty plate.

"I'm sorry," Draco muttered, cheeks reddening slightly. He shook his head slightly, allowing Mitzy to take his plate. "It just seems a waste of time and money."

"Perhaps," Lucius allowed. "But I will not have those _Muggle-made_ things in my home. We will go to Diagon Alley tomorrow; be up by eight."

Knowing a dismissal when he saw one, Draco fought a scowl and rose from his seat, pressing a kiss to his mother's cheek and saying his goodnights before leaving the informal dining room. It was still early, so Draco skipped his rooms and wandered into less-used parts of the manor.

Parts he had been forbidden entering as a child.

Shaking his wand from his sleeve, he cast a quiet _Lumos_ and ghosted through the dim, dusty passages. He had discovered many…_interesting_…rooms the summer after his Third Year and couldn't help coming back whenever possible, to explore if not anything else. It was cool, much like the Dungeons in autumn, and getting distinctly more unpleasant the further he ventured on; cobwebs and dust coating everything liberally.

A spider dropped from the ceiling, startling him and nearly making him lose his grip on his wand. Annoyed, he spelled it aside and rounded the corner, blinking in surprise when he came to an all-too-familiar hallway.

Turning around, he spied four other passages. Hmm. Draco made up his mind quickly, choosing the dimmest hall and walking confidently into the darkness. He knew the path like the back of his hand, stepping over the creaky floor-board a few feet to the left and ducking under the hazardously-hung chandelier. It didn't look as if it had had a good clean in a while, but he was pleased about this and looked around once before unlocking the last door on the right-side and squeezing through the gap when it moaned in protest, getting caught on the plush carpet of the interior.

"Good," he muttered, not noticing anything out of place since his last visit over the Easter break.

It wasn't a very large room, but it had a comfy lounge-suite and an intricate fireplace, so he wasn't too bothered. The carpet was maroon and rather ugly, but soft and squishy under bare feet and heaven on his aching muscles if was too tired to make it back to the couch. A large, mostly empty bookshelf sat to the left of the hearth; large moth-eaten tomes and a few ugly statues adorning the dusty shelves.

Draco stretched, kicking off his shoes and shrugging out of his casual-robes, flinging it over the back of a recliner. He cast a few cleaning spells, removing the musty smell and making sure no dust would cling to his clothes before practically dancing over to the bookshelf, tapping the glowing tip of his wand to the wall in-between the middle shelves and watching intently as a soft groan permitted the air, the secret panel shuddering away to reveal a safe-like hollowing in the wall.

He smirked, thumbing through the admittedly large stack of magazines and grabbing a medium, blue-tinted vial from the little crate towards the back of the compartment. Closing it halfway, Draco slunk back to the fireplace and lit it, revelling briefly in the warmth it offered before kneeling where he stood and reaching underneath the plush divan for the towel he had hidden there months before. After shaking it out, he folded it in half and smoothed it in front of the fireplace, gingerly sitting himself on it.

He was about to start but frowned, noting how quiet and awkward it was. At a loss of what to do, he sat in silence for a moment before rolling his eyes irritably and casting the background-music charm Theo had taught him in passing.

'_There_,' he thought, flipping the magazine open and loosely crossing his legs for a better view. He set his wand aside, rolling his head back and cupping himself within his trousers when he felt his cock react to the first few pictures. Rubbing slowly, Draco looked from image to image, teasing himself until he felt he could have been at full hardness. Planting his feet on the carpet, he shimmied off his trousers and pants, sighing quietly when the cool air caressed his sensitive flesh. Gripping his prick, he gave a few firm strokes before uncorking the blue vial and pouring some lube onto his palm.

Witches in scantily clad outfits…in no clothes at all…posing lewdly…with a partner…aha! He finally came to the page he was looking for, grabbing his wand in his left hand and awkwardly charming the magazine to hover above his knees so he could keep his feet grounded. Panting softly, he set a firm, moderate pace, occasionally stroking from head to base in one slow movement. His left hand unbuttoned his shirt, broom-calloused fingertips dancing over all of his sensitive spots in just the way he liked.

He smirked briefly, although it was weak as he concentrated on pleasuring himself. Everyone wondered why he didn't date or get a semi-permanent lover…it was all well and good for someone to learn your body, but none of the girls [or the two guys] he had hooked up with could ever get him as hot or bothered as his own hands could.

Half-mast, he watched as the pretty androgynous brunette gave a little strip-tease in the sequence of twelve photos, losing an item of clothing in each picture. He couldn't tell you why that particular star aways got him going but—

Draco tensed and arched, a low moan rumbling from his throat as cum spilt over his cupped hand.

He sat there for what felt like a small eternity, body humming pleasantly.

* * *

It was ridiculous how awkward he felt half an hour later, standing before Potter, reluctant to touch him after his…_activities_.

The toddler was getting impatient, staring up at him with watery green eyes and making choked little whimpers as he clenched and unclenched his little fists, obviously wanting to be picked up. Draco had thought nothing of it, but just as he was about to lift the little raven from the crib he felt a horrible sense of guilt and shame wash over him.

Stupid Potter, making him feel dirty for wanking.

He shuddered, unsure what to do but not wanting to touch the child with a ten-foot-pole. It felt _wrong_.

Potter wailed and he cringed, looking around for a way to shut the kid up before his parents complained about the noise. Seeing nothing helpful, he sneered, tugging his sleeves over his hands and awkwardly pulling the child to his chest.

He immediately quieted, snuggling into his shoulder and clenching a hand in his sleep-shirt. Draco could feel little baby-breaths on his neck and winced slightly when he felt something damp start sinking into his shirt.

Scowling, he sat in a nearby chair, waiting for the brat to bore himself to sleep.

**TO BE CONTINUED...**


	4. Knowing You

**CHAPTER 3: Knowing You**

Snape frowned irritably, stirring anti-clockwise. He was nearly done with the first batch, the second in the beginning process not a few inches away.

He glanced at the letter from Dumbledore, shaking his head and sighing.

'_Kooky old man…_'

* * *

Draco yawned, shuffling down the hall and slumping down the stairs, Harry held under his arm like a rolled-up newspaper.

The toddler didn't seem to mind, rather groggy himself, wiggling half-heartedly and making little grumbling noises as he dripped spit all over the floor like some gross, wet version of Hansel and Gretel. He had been changed and put into a random baby-grow – duckling-yellow, Draco thought; curls still damp from his bath.

"Good morning," he greeted sleepily, thrusting Harry in the general direction of his mother.

"You're late," Narcissa replied, pursing her lips and rolling her eyes but taking the child anyway and sitting him on her lap. A patterned bowl appeared beside her half-finished breakfast, chubby bunnies rolling from side-to-side and effectively grabbing Harry's attention.

He stared wide-eyed at the playing rabbits, mouth agape just enough for a spoon of mushy peaches to sneak past. He chewed and swallowed distractedly, hardly acknowledging the food.

"The simple pleasures of life," Lucius snorted, setting down his cutlery and smoothing out the morning _Prophet_. He flipped to the business section, burying his nose in the top article.

"He's a Gryffindor," Draco grunted, pouring some juice. "Clean socks probably amaze him – and I slept through my alarm; _someone_ was being an attention whore all night."

"_Draco!_"

"What?! He _was_! Screeching bloody murder every time I even _thought_ about putting him down!"

"We heard," Snape replied, scowling over the rim of his teacup. "Put up silencing charms next time."

Draco gaped. "So, what? I have to suffer while you lot sleep like ba—well, _not_ babies because obviously they don't sleep at all!"

Harry blinked innocently at him, grinning after a moment and apparently unaware of the apple-sauce seeping from the corner of his mouth.

Making a face, Draco reached across and grabbed the corner of his plain baby-bib, wiping it away. "Have some dignity, for Merlin's sake…"

"Someone would think you'd want him to," Snape said silkily, smirking. "Keep talking like that and we'd start to think you _care_ for the boy."

"D-don't be ridiculous!" Draco hissed, blushing furiously. "Why would I care about _Potty_?!"

"Potty, potty, potty!" Harry screamed, banging his tiny fists on the table. "Potty, rah! Rah-ray! Rah-ray!"

Lucius hid a smirk, sharing a look with his wife as their son groaned, head dropping to the table-top with a dull _thump_.

* * *

"We're going out," his mother announced, poking her head around the door of the library. "Severus is busy in the lab. We'll be back by ten."

"Okay," he said distractedly, scribbling down some notes for his charms essay. "Is it that gala at the Minister's?"

"Yes, we're heading over there with the Parkinsons. Pansy wanted to come over since there's no children, but your father didn't think that was a very good idea."

Draco winced, closing the book and spinning on his seat so he was facing the entrance. "She doesn't like Potter at the best of times – who knows how she'd behave with him unable to tie his own shoes?"

"Exactly," his mother nodded, smiling coolly. "Where is he, anyway? You haven't gotten the elves to watch him again, have you?"

Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her scolding tone. "He's sleeping – I'm finishing up my summer assignments while I have the time."

"Very good," she said approvingly. "Don't forget to have Mitzy dust the sunroom! I must be going now."

"Have a good time," he said, turning back to his school-work. He was nearly finished, only Charms and Transfiguration left, but he had all summer, so he wasn't worried.

Ten minutes later, his wand started vibrating in his pocket. Shivering at the feeling so close to his…er, crotch, he quickly muttering the counter-spell and packed up his things to take back to his room.

Squinting out a passing window, he noted the position of the sun and quickened his steps, candles flickering to life along the halls as he went. He narrowed his eyes when he noticed the portraits whispering to each-other.

"What?" he asked loudly.

"That imp is at it again," a young woman replied, sneering. "Skipping through our frames."

Imp…? Realisation hit and he sprinted towards his quarters, throwing the door open and dropping his things on the first flat surface, rushing towards Harry's room. Giggling assaulted his ears and he burst into the room, scowling furiously and face flushed angrily.

"You stupid—_asparagus_! I told you to leave him alone!"

The faerie pouted, stilling in his hijacked frame. "The little Wizard _loves_ me. You're just jealous!"

"The hell I am!" he fumed, whipping his wand from his sleeve and pointing it at the portrait. "Leave or I'll burn it!"

Yelping, he rushed out of the frame, letting the fisherman back in. "Thanks, lad," the man grumbled, shooting glares towards the edge of the boat where the fey had entered. "Kicks me out of me own painting!"

Draco ignored him, turning to the crib where Harry had gone silent. He winced, seeing the unshed tears in large green eyes. "Don't—"

Harry wailed, flailing and throwing the soft-toys out of his cot. A chirping frog hit Draco square in the face.

"MALFOY! IF YOU DON'T SHUT HIM UP, I'LL—!"

"Okay, okay!" he yelled, lifting Harry up and onto his hip, bouncing him distractedly. "Shush now, Potter! He's just a no-good asparagus-wannabe anyway…"

"I told you he loves me!"

"Fire, meet painting!" Draco screamed in response, stalking over to the door and slamming it shut. He ignored the way Harry thumped a fist on his shoulder, crying wetly in his ear. "Shhhh, Harry! Come on, Snape will do unmentionable things to you and then we won't find your body! Ugh! Fine…what about a story, okay? Yeah, with pictures and the cute little ducks you like so much, okay?"

Harry quieted somewhat, intrigued. He wiped a fist over his nose, snuffling and whimpering.

"Yeah, story," Draco mumbled, bouncing him and searching the bookshelves for a suitable book. Belatedly he realised they didn't have any stories on 'cute little ducks', but there was a picture-book from when he was a child.

Sitting in front of the fire, he settled Harry on his lap, back to his chest, and swallowed his dignity. "Once upon a time, there lived a purple dragon called Firefly…"

* * *

He watched his father curiously, gently bouncing Harry on his knee. Had it been a dream, after all?

_Draco blinked sleepily, wondering what had woken him. He rolled over with a grunt, grabbing his wand and casting a quiet _Tempus_. 3.04AM. _

_Groaning, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and squinted around the room. Was Harry awake? Listening, he heard quiet grumbles and sniffling coming from the other room._

_"Attention whore," he mumbled to himself, throwing off the duvet and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. The floor was cool, but warmed considerably after a moment. He had never understood how – he supposed it was some age-old charm that had been installed when the Manor was built or something equally as boring._

_Harry made another pitiful sound, but suddenly cut himself off and Draco perked up, eyes widening when he heard a soft whisper. Was someone in his rooms? Heart stuttering, he clenched his fist around his wand and tip-toed to the door, carefully pushing it open enough to peek through._

_The little side-room was lit only by the fireplace in the corner, dim for all intents and purposes as the flames had dwindled since dinner. A lounge-suit curved around the hearth, a few nearly-empty bookshelves lining the walls and a single-bed sitting underneath the lone window, soft crimson drapes filtering the moon-light. _

_It was normally used when a friend stayed for the summer or any holidays, mainly Blaise, but had been cleared out of any unnecessary furniture to make space for a crib and baby-things._

_He sucked in a startled breath, quickly ducking behind the door in case he was spotted. After a moment he sneaked a look around the frame, eyes wide and mouth parted in surprise. Dread coiled in his gut._

_His father stood over the crib, loose hair spilling over his shoulder and veiling his face, mouth moving soundlessly as he seemingly soothed Harry. His right arm was resting on the edge of the crib, hand held captive by chubby baby fingers while the other hung by his side, loosely clutching a length of rolled parchment. _

_Harry burbled curiously, kicking his little stockinged feet and impatiently tugging on the hand in his grasp, bringing it to his face. Lucius quirked a tiny smile, gently running the tip of his finger over the bridge of Harry's little button nose. _

_Draco shook his head, quietly closing the door and climbing back into bed. It was too early for hallucinations._

* * *

"No!"

Draco rolled his eyes heavenward, gathering his patience. Huffing, he grabbed the plastic fork and stabbed some chicken. "Eat, Potter!"

"Potty, no!"

"_Now_!"

"No, no, NO!"

"_Gah_, fine!" Draco shouted. "_Whee_, here comes the broomstick! _NOW EAT IT!_"

Harry clapped his hands, giggling and chewing his lunch happily. "More, more!"

**TO BE CONTINUED…**


	5. Draco's Boy

**CHAPTER 4: Draco's Boy**

"I really hate you," he said miserably, staring into warm green eyes. "You're a real bastard, you know? Making me like you. He's going to kill you and then what? I'll probably be disowned for acting like a soppy Hufflepuff and sobbing grossly all over your corpse."

Harry gurgled curiously, reaching up to pat him on the cheek.

"Dumb baby," he huffed, flopping onto his back and closing his eyes. _He_ felt like a child again; scared of the monsters in the dark and helpless to that fear. His parents had always eventually consoled him, but those moments alone and so scared weren't easily forgotten.

A warm baby-hand suddenly bopped him on the nose and he hissed, grabbing the offending fist and squinting up at Potter. "What the hell?" he groused, rubbing his nose with his free hand.

Potter sniffled, face scrunched up pathetically. "Lub Potty!"

"What?" he said. "And your name isn't 'Potty'. Okay? Stupid Gryffindors will kill me…"

"LUB POTTY!"

"Okay, okay! 'Lub Potty'!" Harry still looked close to tears, so he swung himself into a sitting position and held his arms out. Potter launched himself into his lap, rubbing his face against his shirt and struggling to get a good grip.

Sighing loudly but secretly pleased, Draco helped him into a comfortable position and cuddled the warm little body to his chest. He had never liked children before, but it was hard not to want to snuggle the little rascal.

Not that he'd ever admit it, of course. He'd marry Weaselette before that.

Harry giggled suddenly and Draco blinked, confused, before the smell hit him and he choked.

Merlin, he hated children.

* * *

_"Auntie Bella," he breathed, eyes widening slightly as he took in the ragged form of his mother's sister. She was gaunt and wide-eyed, hair spilling in every direction and dressed in a revealing set of robes that looked as if she had made them herself._

_Bellatrix cooed at him, dragging him into a squishy, womanly hug. "Little Dragon! Oh look at you, all grown up you are!"_

_He met his father's eyes over her shoulder but he shook his head, mouthing 'Be quiet' just as another, darker figure came through the Floo. Draco felt his heart stop and stutter, stomach dropping to rest near his feet as the blood drained from his face and his mouth went dry._

_The Dark Lord._

_He wore a long, hooded cloak and didn't give him even a glance, much to Draco's relief. "Malfoy," he said in a soft, deceptively silky voice. "Where is the boy?"_

_"In the lounge, my Lord. Please follow me."_

_"Me too!" Bellatrix cried, apparently sick of him as she pushed him away and hurried after his father and their Lord. _

_Draco shuddered, wrapping his arms around himself. He had a bad feeling._

* * *

_"The Dark Lord—_h-here_?!"_

_His father sighed, giving him an annoyed look. "He won't kill you in your sleep, boy. Remain polite and _don't_ do anything stupid and he won't have any reason to take an interest in you. Besides, he won't be sleeping here, merely coming and going as he pleases."_

_"B-but! What about Dumbledore?! Doesn't he have some weird tracking charms on Potter?!"_

_Lucius blinked in surprise, glancing askance at him. "Good, you've thought about these things then. No matter, our Lord wouldn't do anything especially risky. The old man will never know of his visiting – unless you tell him."_

_"What?_ _You think I'd put us in that kind of danger? Siding with that Mudblood-lover?"_

_Lucius merely smiled, satisfied. He stood, smoothing down his shirt and grabbing his cane. "You can never be too careful, Draco. Now; your mother and I are going out for a few hours so fetch the boy so she can get ready."_

_Draco trailed after his father, speaking in a quiet voice. "What about Ha—Potter? What's going to happen to him?" _

_Lucius paused for a split-second before continuing down the cool hall, hand tightening ever-so-slightly on his cane. "That is not our concern, Draco – it never has been. Interfere with our Lord's plans and face your peril."_

* * *

"You can't hide down here forever," Snape said, bottling some Dreamless Sleep. "It's not as if they won't find you."

"I'm not hiding," Draco hissed, glancing uneasily at the door. "I'm just…hanging out with you."

"_Right_."

"Don't look at me like that! And besides, I need to talk to you about the potion. Will this happen overnight?"

Severus gave him a blank look before continuing his work. "You'll feed him the mixed Sleeping Draught and Dreamless Sleep and then the Aging potion in quick succession and he will fall unconscious. The process will start soon after and he should be around four years of age tomorrow morning."

"Isn't that dangerous?" he asked, frowning.

"Not if you use an alkaline to level it out. The Dreamless Sleep will keep him from falling asleep too quickly and will help prevent unnecessary strain and the Sleeping Draught will keep his body from trying to fight the changes."

Draco nodded, still doubtful. Combining two potent sleeping potions didn't sound like a good idea to him.

* * *

"Ray, Ray, Ray!" Harry sang, bouncing up and down on the temporarily softened mattress. It moved with him, much to his delight.

"Yes, yes, I'm Ray," he said, Vanishing the bathwater and bringing over the long nightshirt his mother had set out. It was one of his own he thought, just shrunk down and altered in some areas. Tossing the soggy towel to the side, he strapped on a new nappy and pulled the shirt over damp curls, smiling when Potter blinked huge green eyes and giggled as he fingered the soft material.

"There, all dressed," he announced, scooping the toddler into his arms and cuddling him to his chest, feeling disheartened when he realised it was the last time he'd get to hold Baby-Potter at all.

"Mrrrhhmmm."

Sighing, Draco dimmed the lights and sat on the edge of his bed. He settled Harry into the crook of his arm, grabbing the bottle of milk on the nightstand and pressing the teat to gently-parted lips.

Harry make a little grunting sound and grabbed the bottle with both hands, staring up at him with huge eyes as he snacked on the potion-mixed milk. He was three-quarters way through before his eyes started drooping and he turned his head to the side, milk dribbling onto his cheek.

Wiping it away with the edge of his sleeve and putting the bottle down, Draco held him for a bit longer before huffing and standing.

The crib had been re-sized and moved into his room, right next to his own bed. Tucking Potter under the quilt, he brushed dark curls from a smooth forehead. A wry, sad smile tugged at his mouth and he shook his head.

"Little bastard, making me like you…"

**TO BE CONTINUED…**


	6. Spider Monkey

**CHAPTER 5: Spider Monkey**

Draco awoke to quiet sniffling sounds.

Squinting through the early-morning darkness, he frowned as he tried to remember the night before and nearly jumped from the bed when he realised what day it was. Struggling with the duvet, he kicked it off and crawled to the other side of the mattress where the crib sat.

Gazing at him with an absolutely heartbroken expression was Potter, blanket clutched to his chest and huge green eyes shiny with tears. His cheeks were wet and his face blotchy, lips trembling around the thumb wedged in his mouth.

"Harry?" he whispered, taking in the small, thin frame and unruly black curls. "…baby?"

"R-Ray," Potter said brokenly, reaching through the bars of the crib and looking as if he were choking off sobs. "Ray doesn't l-love Potty anymore!"

Wincing, Draco stood and lit the hearth before gripping Harry under the arms and pulling him from the cot. Bare legs immediately clamped around his hips, the nightshirt bunching around his thighs. It was still too big on him, something that disturbed Draco more than he'd like to admit.

"Of course I l-love you, Po—_Harry_," he ground out, not wanting to upset the boy more. "Now, what's wrong? Are you sore anywhere?"

Harry shook his head, hugging him as if he would disappear at any moment. "You not wakes up!"

"Well, I'm up now, okay?" he said quietly. "I'm sorry."

"I's scared," Harry mumbled into his shoulder. "Don't love me no more."

Draco didn't quite know what to say, not at all used to the clingy and insecure behaviour. He muttered some nonsense and sat on the bed, rubbing his back and just giving Harry a cuddle.

They sat in relative silence for a long moment before he heard footsteps and a sharp knock on the door.

"Draco? Are you awake?"

"Yes!" he called, lowering his voice slightly when Harry flinched. "Just give me a couple minutes to get myself and Harry ready for breakfast."

His mother hesitated before walking away, shoes muffled by the carpet.

"Are you hungry?" he asked softly, shifting Harry into a more secure position before heading for his closet. Harry nodded against his chest, but remained silent as he gathered some clothes.

Draco headed for the bathroom, sitting Harry on the counter and unwrapping the child's toothbrush that appeared next to the sink. Squeezing some toothpaste onto the bristles, he held it out. "Do you know how to do it yourself?"

Harry nodded slowly, taking it by the baby-blue rubber grip and turning sideways to look in the mirror.

Confident he was doing an alright job, Draco started brushing his own teeth. He rinsed with the mouthwash on the side of the sink and patted his mouth dry with a paper-towel. He helped Potter do the same before wetting a facecloth and gently washing the child's face.

A pile of clothes appeared on the counter as he was finishing up with their hair and he put Harry on the floor, pulling the nightshirt over his head. He unfolded a pair of trousers and plain pants, kneeling to unstrap the nappy and looking away as Potter stepped into the tiny briefs. The trousers and an emerald-green tunic followed.

"I'm going to get dressed, okay?"

"…'kay."

He waited for Harry to leave or at least turn around, but the child merely stared at him expectantly. "Right," he said uneasily, quickly shedding his pyjamas and donning his day-outfit.

* * *

Breakfast was a silent affair; his parents pointedly ignored how Harry refused to sit anywhere but his lap and he refused to comment on it. He initially tried to get the child onto his own chair, but when the first glimmers of tears showed he quickly backtracked and somehow fed them both a substantial amount.

Now, they were checking in with Snape. Harry seemed more relaxed around the scowling man, much to both of their surprise. He sat on his own and didn't fuss, taking the potions as asked and practically making cow-eyes the whole visit.

"Is he alright?" Snape asked quietly.

"I have no idea," Draco replied, stumped. "He was crying when I woke up and hasn't left my person all morning. He wouldn't even talk to Mother."

"Hm. I'll consult my texts, but it's probably to do with you being his main carer during his 'infancy'. He did just age two years in a few hours – he's bound to be confused and insecure."

"Right," Draco said, feeling a bit better about the situation. "It went as well as expected, though? He doesn't seem to be in pain and I haven't noticed any abnormalities."

"He's thinner and smaller than I would expect, but other than that it was a success. The nutrient potions I've given him will help, but all you can really do is make sure he eats a balanced diet. Narcissa has probably already arranged for this."

"Probably," he nodded, thanking his professor before going back to Harry who was humming and kicking his legs. "Ready, P—Harry?"

Nodding, Harry held out his arms.

Sighing, Draco hefted him onto his hip. He had a feeling this was going to be a regular thing.

**TO BE CONTINUED…**


	7. Are You Sirius?

**A/N: I feel like everyones horribly OOC?**

* * *

**CHAPTER 6: Are You Sirius?**

Yawning, Draco turned the taps off and left the steamy bathroom. A towel sat around his bare shoulders and he wore a pair of lounge-pants that hung low on his bony hips.

"Harry?" he called, tugging the curtains open and cracking the windows, but not too much that the rain would sneak in. Hearing no response, he padded over to his bed and pulled the duvet off. "Harry? Come on, it's time to get up."

Harry grumbled, rolling away from him and hugging the nearest pillow, intent on sleeping some more.

Rolling his eyes, Draco glanced at his clock. "Harry! It's already eight, you need to _get up_! Come on, the baths ready. Harry!"

Flinging himself into a sitting position, Harry glared at him from under unruly curls. He rubbed his eyes clumsily, blindly sliding off the bed and hissing when his feet met the cool floor.

Draco scooped him up, skinny legs immediately wrapping around his hips. He half-closed the bathroom door and set him down on the non-slip mat to get unchanged. While Harry shook his pyjamas' off Draco went to the sink and got his toothbrush out, squeezing some toothpaste onto the bristles before starting on his lower teeth.

"Help," Harry frowned, holding the side of the bath with one leg in the air. Draco held the brush in his cheek and lifted him into the water, tossing a face-cloth in a moment later with a muffled, 'Wash your face'.

Finishing his teeth, he rinsed and wiped his mouth and started on his hair. 'I need a trim,' he thought absently, going over the locks with his towel once more before straightening it out with a comb.

"Draco?"

"Harry's in the bath!" he said, moving to stand in the doorway. "What's wrong?"

His mother came through to his bedroom, glancing around before settling her gaze on him. "Nothing, I'm just making sure you're up and ready. They'll be around in an hour or so."

"Alright. Is breakfast on the table?"

"Your father and I already ate," she raised an eyebrow. "You're up later than usual."

He flushed, looking away. "Harry was having trouble going to sleep."

Narcissa frowned, most likely about to give him another lecture about how he was 'spoiling' Harry by letting him sleep in his bed, but closed her mouth and shook her head when she remembered the child was in hearing range. "Come down soon," was all she said before leaving.

Sighing, Draco returned to the mirror. He pulled some vials from the cabinet and set them out, uncorking the largest and dipping two fingers inside.

"What you doin'?" Harry asked curiously, watching his reflection as he rubbed cream into his face and neck.

"Making myself pretty," he smirked, remembering Pansy's little joke. "And you're meant to be cleaning! Chop chop!"

Harry giggled, sticking his tongue out. "I'm done. Out!"

"Alright, alright, hold on," he muttered, wiping his hands on his discarded towel and picking a new one. Harry stood up, arms in the air and expression expectant. Rolling his eyes, he wrapped the towel around his chest and pulled him from the water. Turning a knob near the side, the water started to drain.

"Brush your teeth, okay? I'll get you some clothes."

* * *

"Bacon, eggs! Bacon, eggs!" Harry sang softly, skipping a few feet ahead of him. He was dressed in a little black tunic with skinny pants that tucked into his boots and one of Draco's old robes shrunk down.

Shaking his head, Draco marvelled at the complete 180 Harry had pulled. The first and second day after the change were the worst – there was crying and clinging and even a tantrum, but the third day had dawned and he was happier than a pig in shit for no apparent reason. He was still moody and clingy, but he talked rather animatedly to everyone and had no issues amusing himself.

Now, on the fourth day, they were expecting visitors.

Snape had announced rather disgustedly that Sirius hadn't taken the news well at all and he was absolutely horrified that Dumbledore had let Harry be taken in by anyone but himself. There was much discussion before deciding that Black and Lupin would be allowed to visit – Dumbledore had originally wanted to send a whole horde of people, but his father had refused vehemently.

Since he was Harry's main caretaker and the only one who didn't have a bad history with either of them, Draco had offered to greet and entertain the men on his own though his father would be nearby just in case.

"Ray?"

"Hmm?" he said distractedly, sitting down and filling a glass with pumpkin juice.

"Who's coming?"

"Sirius Black and Remus Lupin," he said cautiously. "Black is your godfather."

Harry nodded, poking at his scrambled eggs. "Oh. Okay. Are they coming to play?"

"…you could say that," Draco pulled a face at the thought, pulling the butter dish closer and getting a piece of toast. "They might just want to talk, though."

"Like, ask questions?"

"Hmm."

"What kind of questions?"

He frowned, looking at Harry over his juice. "I don't know, Harry. Things like 'Are you happy?' and 'Are we treating you badly?' I'd think."

"That's not very nice questions! You _love_ me. Don't you, Ray?"

"Mhmm."

Harry beamed at him, humming happily as he dug into his food.

Draco chewed mechanically, watching the child as he scooped up eggs and munched on some bacon. It was amazing how easily pleased he was – he wasn't sure if he liked it or not.

* * *

"HARRY!"

Draco flinched, resisting the urge to grab up his charge and hide him away from the world. He stood still, watching with critical eyes as Sirius Black squeezed the life out of a confused Harry.

Remus Lupin nodded at him, unsmiling but not hostile either. He looked as if he were contemplating restraining his friend.

"Hullo," Harry said when he had his breath back. "Are you Serious or Rem-um, Remy?"

Lupin cracked a smile at Sirius' astonished expression. Stepping forward, he held out a hand. "Hullo, Harry. I'm Remus Lupin and this is _Sirius_ Black."

"Oh," the child said, blinking. He shook the much larger, rougher hand uncertainly. "Hi. This is Ray."

"We've met," Remus said kindly, smiling bemusedly down at Harry. "Are you and…'Ray', close?"

"Yup! He's really nice to me. Are you nice?"

"Moony's the nicest guy around," Sirius announced, looking suspiciously at Draco from the corner of his eye. "Say, Harry, why don't you go play with Moony for a bit?"

Harry furrowed his brow, pointing at Remus who nodded with an exasperated frown at his friend. "…okay. We can play Aurors and Robbers!"

When they were further away, Black gave him a long, tired look and flopped down on the nearest sofa. "Malfoy."

"Black."

"Where's your old man?"

"In his study," Draco said, sitting across from him. "What do you want to know?"

"Sharp. How is he?"

"Fine – he's as happy as ever, really. I'm sure Dumbledore told you he'll be aging again in a couple days."

"Yes," Sirius scowled. "We want to be here for that."

"I don't think—"

"Listen, kid, because I'm not repeating myself. I didn't get to be around the first-time round, so I'm damn well going to do it right the second. I _will_ take you hostage if I have to."

"…right."

"I'm se—I'm not joking."

Sighing, Draco glanced to the side, thinking. "Look – I can't promise anything, but my parents probably already know you'll want to spend more time with him. I don't see why we can't arrange…'play-dates'."

Black seemed to relax. "I suppose Moony and I crashing in the basement won't work either?"

"Uh…no. I don't think so."

**TO BE CONTINUED…**


	8. Sharing

**CHAPTER 7: Sharing**

"HARRY JAMES POTTER! PUT YOUR PANTS ON _RIGHT NOW_!"

"NO!"

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!"

"_NOOO_!"

"Sirius…"

"Leave them, Moony," he flapped a hand disinterestedly, flicking through a magazine he had found in the parlour. "Look at this sofa! We should get one of these – massages and self-warming!"

"NO-ONE WANTS TO SEE YOUR BLOODY COCK!"

"COCK, COCK, COCK!"

"GRRRR!"

"Freeze!"

Draco and Harry skidded a halt, staring blankly at each-other before slowly turning to look at a scowling Remus. He crossed his arms and tapped his foot expectantly. "_What_ are you doing?"

"Nothing," they chorused.

"Oh?"

"Er…Harry won't get dressed," Draco said, fighting the urge to take a step back. Remus was pretty intimidating when he wanted to be.

"I don't like undies!" Harry exclaimed, glaring up at his Ray. "They _gross_!"

"Aww, that's _so_ cute!" Sirius cooed, grinning at them over the top of his catalogue. "I used to be the same, you know. Couldn't stand being covered up – my parents used to glue my clothes to me!"

Harry stared at him blankly for a moment before his face crumbled and he erupted in tears. He threw himself at Remus and practically crawled up his body, clinging to him like white on rice. "DON'T WANNA! DON'T WANNA!"

"_Really_?!" Draco hissed at his ridiculous cousin over Harry's screaming, rolling his eyes heavenwards when Sirius only looked confused. He balled up the cotton kiddies-pants and put them in his pocket. "Shh Harry, dad's working, okay? We're not going to glue your clothes to you – Sirius' parents were huge buttheads. Remus isn't a butthead, is he?"

"N-no," Harry whimpered, arms tightening around the werewolf's neck. "Remy is n-nice…"

"Will you put on your pants is he asks nicely?" Draco asked, half-knowing it was probably useless but also hoping he'd just put the bloody clothes on before his mother stumbled upon him running around the manor with only socks and a shirt on.

"No."

"Maybe he has sensory issues?" Remus suggested thoughtfully, looking only slightly uncomfortable to be holding the half-naked child. "Some kids hate the feeling of some fabrics."

"He was fine before," Draco frowned, eyebrows rising.

"Maybe he was too scared to say anything," Sirius proposed. "I know for a fact he hates green-beans but he ate them at dinner last night when Narcissa scolded him for playing with his food."

They were silent for a moment before Remus said, "Harry, why don't you pick some pants? If you don't like any of them, then we can buy some you do want. How about that?"

"_Any_ pants?" Harry asked, pout dissolving into a thoughtful look. "Any, _any_ pants?"

"Sure," Draco sighed, silently praying he wouldn't choose the ones with the dancing broomsticks. He didn't know what the hell his mother thought she was doing buying such ugly clothing, but Harry seemed to love them – until it was time to actually put them on. He seemed to like looking at things more than wearing or playing with them.

Harry was let down and he streaked out of the room, quickly followed by the two adults and the teen. He knew the winding halls better than even Draco, nearly throwing them off multiple times. They came to the Heir Suite, but Harry didn't go into the semi-permanent nursery like they expected. He went straight to Draco's closet, dragging the drawer with his undergarments open and digging inside.

"What—?"

"These ones!" Harry announced, holding a pair of cream silk boxers over his head.

"Those are Ray's, Harry," Remus tried to reason.

"But you said I could pick any!" he pouted, hugging the pants to his chest. "I want _these_ ones!"  
"Good lord," Sirius giggled, trying to muffle his laughter, "he's turned into a little snake!"

"Really?" Harry exclaimed, pants forgotten. "I like snakes! They're pretty and they talk to me when I'm lonely."

The silence was deafening. Remus and Sirius exchanged startled, fearful glances while Draco paled a few shades. Sure, everyone knew Harry was a Parselmouth, but didn't he only find out in second year?

"What?" Harry asked, rubbing a sock-clad foot on the back of his right leg. "Is that…bad?"

"No," Draco said immediately, seeing panic filter into bright green eyes. "We were just…surprised. Do you talk to snakes a lot, baby?"

"Not really," he said almost shyly, not quite convinced. "…there's one in the garden…it's really big and scary-looking but she said she wouldn't eat me if I pet her…"

"Did you pet her?" Draco asked, voice higher than usual. He had an idea just who that snake was and if he was right, then he wouldn't dare let Harry out in the gardens alone _ever_.

"Mm. Are you mad?"

"No, no," he whispered, ignoring the adults suspicious glances. "Alright, you want those pants? If we shrink them down, will you wear them?"

"Yes!" Harry beamed, padding over to him and hugging his leg. "I can _really_ have them, Ray?"

"I _suppose_," he said in a gruff voice, winking. Harry giggled and held up the pants expectantly when Sirius pulled out his wand. They shrunk to nearly a tenth of their original size, perfect for his little four-year-old body. Draco went to get some trousers from the nursery while Remus helped Harry step into his new underpants, letting out a shaky breath. Harry was always surprising him.

* * *

"Harry's been talking to Nagini."

His father paused in his writing, staring silently at the quill in his hand before continuing as if he hadn't heard a thing. Draco knew he was listening and took in a deep breath.

"She's in the gardens, isn't she?"

"Our Lord asked to leave her here," Lucius drawled disinterestedly, signing his name at the bottom of the page and spelling the ink dry. "I don't see why this is a concern, Draco. She will not attack him."

"She'll—I don't know! Doesn't it seem dangerous to you?"

"Draco."

Frustrated, he met his father's cool eyes. "…I know." He sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"Our Lord is not stupid – he won't hurt the boy with Dumbledore watching us. Having Nagini whisper things to him is another story. Run along now, it's almost ten."

"Goodnight," he said, absently pecking his father's cheek on the way out and seemingly oblivious to his surprise. He walked the darkened halls to his bedroom, hands in his pockets and head lowered as he thought. He didn't care what his father said, letting a man-eating snake roam freely around a three-feet tall boy didn't seem like a very good idea to him.

He locked the main door to his suite and dimmed the lights so the crackling fire was the only source. Sirius and Remus were staying in the nursery since Harry would be ageing up again the next day, the latter sleeping peacefully on his side while his friend sprawled obnoxiously across the mattress. Draco shook his head, lips quirking up into an amused smirk when his idiotic cousin suddenly turned over and wound himself around the werewolf like an octopus.

His bedroom was lit by two glowing orbs – similar to a muggle nightlight, Remus had commented. Since Harry refused to sleep in complete darkness his father had found the spell they had used when he was a small child and taught it to him.

He undressed swiftly, pulling on a pair of sleep-pants and leaving his undershirt. He crawled into bed beside Harry, tucking the duvet around them and pushing his wand under his pillow.

"Ray?"  
"I'm here," he said softly, holding his arm up so the child could cuddle up to his chest. Harry could often only fall asleep if he were in the bed or at least the same room.

"You were gone a long time." Harry whispered, breath tickling his neck.

"I'm sorry," he said tiredly. "Sleep now, okay? Tomorrow you're going to spend the day with Professor Snape."

"Is he going to make me drink more yucky stuff?"

"Probably," he chuckled weakly. Harry had been gaining weight, but not enough and they had decided to put him on regular nutrient serums. Snape wanted to make sure his body wouldn't strain too much with the next change as well.

"I love you, Ray."

"…love you too."

**TBC…**


	9. Inevitable I

**A/N: Yeah, crappy update but at least it's something? I'm trying to sort out my ideas for this fic. I'll have the next chapter out a lot sooner and it'll definitely be longer.**

* * *

**CHAPTER 8: Inevitable I**

"I can't believe the _nerve_ of him!" Sirius fumed, glaring holes into the door. "How _dare_ he?! I'm his godfather!"

After an hour of the same thing, sometimes reworded rather creatively, both Remus and Draco were thoroughly _over_ it. They both sat outside Snape's pseudo-lab on chairs Lupin had transfigured, legs crossed and reading a potions manual and that morning's _Prophet_ respectively.

"And _he's_ a qualified medical professional," Draco said without looking up, absently turning pages and jiggling his leg to get some feeling back into it. "Harry will be out in a mome—"

The door to the lab slammed against the wall, startling the three men – well, men and boy – onto their feet and drawing their wands. It was useless however as a flash of expensive clothes and unruly hair tore down the hall and flung itself around the corner. Draco spun on his heel just in time to see Snape appear at the door, unusually pale and wand held loosely in his hand.

"Qualified medical professional, huh?" Black hissed, glaring at them fiercely before hurrying to catch up with his distraught godson.

"What happened?" Lupin demanded, newspaper forgotten and looking rather disturbed himself.

"He was…spooked," Snape ground out, straightening and seemingly pulling himself together. "Find him before he bothers—your father, Draco. Bring him back when you've calmed him down...we need to talk."

Lupin didn't seem to notice the hesitation before 'your father' but Draco heard it clear as day. He felt the blood leave his face and his heart sped up, chest constricting painfully.

Before he knew it he was running after his foolish cousin and his even more ridiculous charge, fearing the worst and hoping for the best. They hadn't had any run-ins with the Dark Lord or even his aunt, but he wasn't unaware of their presence in the manor either. They often moved around after dark, other Death Eaters and allies sometimes Flooing over for a meeting or 'dinner party'.

He locked his rooms up tight on those evenings, triple-checking the locks and putting up every ward he knew so Harry couldn't get out. He knew without a doubt his pathetic attempts wouldn't even stall _Him_, but it certainly kept a curious four-year-old inside and out of direct danger.

He heard a funny snuffling sound and slowed, peeking around the next corner and frowning when he saw nothing. The hall was empty, but the snuffling was definitely louder. He lifted his wand and checked the closest rooms, keeping an ear open and his senses alert.

It sounded like—

"Lost, child? You seem a little far from…home."

Draco stiffened horribly, heart seeming to jump into his throat. He moved so mechanically he was surprised his joints didn't squeak, progress inaudible as he approached the next corner. He stopped at the bend, pressing his back to the wall and listening intently. He didn't think he could do much if needed, but he couldn't help feeling as if he needed to just be there to protect H—_Potter_.

"W-who are y-you?" Harry – voice wet with tears – demanded, sounding very much like he was trying to be brave but aware the outcome was irrefutable.

"…no-one," came the amused reply. "I'm no-one. You, however…what is your name?"

"…my n-name?" Harry whispered, hiccoughing a bit. "…I'm H-Harry."

"Just Harry?"

He could picture his ward shuffling a bit, looking down at his feet as he tried to think. "…just Harry," he said softly.

"Hmm. Is there any particular reason you're making a scene, Harry?"

"I'm n-_not_!"

"You're not storming through the manor crying without any disregard for anyone else?"

"…m'sorry."

"Are you?" that damned amused tone again. "Come now, wipe your face and I'll take you back to—"

"No!"

"…excuse me?"

Draco shuddered, shrinking back. He had only ever heard that tone once or twice before, both times before death or mutilation occurred. _He_ was pissed. He sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slowly and quietly. His father had assured him, silently, that nothing would happen to Harry – they had plans for him, plans that involved him not being dead – but that didn't tell him if the Dark Lord had regained some sense along with his [assumingly] good looks.

If Harry noticed the ice, he ignored it and pushed on with that ridiculous Gryffindor bravery. "No going back! P'essor Snape—P'essor S-Snape…"

"What did Professor Snape do?" The Dark Lord all but demanded. Softening his voice after the inevitable flinch, he said: "You can tell me, Harry. Did he hurt you?"

"N-no," Harry sniffled, most likely wiping his face. "E'nice…"

"Then what's wrong?" Impatience was creeping back, though not easily detected.

"…"

"Don't mumble, child. And look at me when you speak to me."

"E' wants me to tell Ray and Moony and Snuffles…stuff…"

Whatever the 'stuff' was, it didn't bode well. Draco didn't like Harry's fearful tone one bit – if anything, it made his heart speed up even more and a cold sweat break out over his skin.

"Stuff you don't want to tell them?" The Dark Lord asked, his tone kind and soothing.

Draco knew better. His skin crawled with the glee he detected under the false-assuring tone – at least he finally knew why his father was so adamant not to betray the huge dick.

He was a complete psycho.

"Well, you don't have to tell them anything. Isn't that right, Mr Malfoy?"

"Ray!"

Realistically, he probably should have known _the_ Dark Lord Voldemort would know he was there – he was merely leaning up against the wall, with no attempts at a Disillusion or Cloaking charm – but it had somehow slipped his mind. Cursing his incompetence [and in front of his father's Master too!] he pushed off the wall and inched around the corner, relaxing somewhat when Harry practically threw himself into his arms.

"What are you doing, Ray?!"

"Looking for you, of course," he said smoothly, briefly inclining his head respectively towards the startlingly handsome man standing across from them. He had glimpsed his Lord without his hood before, but he had never noticed how…well, _handsome_ he was.

"Really?"

Frowning, Draco looked down into the child's unusually meek expression. "Yes, really," he said, somewhat annoyed. "Why wouldn't I? And besides, you know you're not allowed to run off on your own!"

"Are you mad?" Harry mumbled into his hip, wrapping his little arms around Draco's waist and burying his face in cotton.

"…no, I'm not mad, Harry," Draco said, very aware of the calculating eyes watching him. "Come now, we need to go back before your godfather tears the Manor apart…"

Gasping, Harry tore himself away from his 'Ray'. "Would he do that, Ray?"

"If I'm not mistaken, that's what he's doing right now. Come – and say sorry to…this man."

"I'm sorry!" Harry chirped, earlier woes apparently forgotten. "We can play later and then you'll forgive me, right?"

Draco choked, unable to help but imagine the Dark Lord and his mortal enemy, now a pre-schooler, 'playing'. He supressed his other reactions however, very aware of how inappropriate it was.

"…yes," the Dark Lord said after a moment, regarding Harry with unreadable eyes. "We can do that. Goodbye, Harry."

Draco scooped his charge up, nodding once more to his Lord and backing away before turning. "Bye-bye!" Harry called over Draco's shoulder as they left, the latter as quickly as he could without seeming as if he were fleeing.

Predators thrived on fear, and all that.

He made quick progress, stopping only once to stop his idiot cousin from arguing with a portrait in the parlour. Harry clung to his neck tighter the closer they came back to the lab and Draco was reminded of why Harry left in the first place.

He had a bad feeling in his stomach.

**TBC…**


End file.
